


find a nice boy / take him home

by poppyseedheart



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Clubbing, Established Relationship, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Yes both of those tags apply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28906476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyseedheart/pseuds/poppyseedheart
Summary: Privately, Jeonghan thinks that he'd never be oblivious enough to try for a one night stand with someone who has such an open book of a face, who looks like he'd build Jeonghan a literal house with those arms and that sweet goddamn smile, but that's not the point tonight. The guy—Seungcheol, he'd shyly introduced himself as—is offering to buy him a drink. And what's Jeonghan going to do? Say no?
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 35
Kudos: 233





	find a nice boy / take him home

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaa oh my god I feel POSSESSED hi svt fandom here is 4k+ of smut????? Thank you to cat and cee for the enabling and cheerleading, my god, I can't believe I wrote this. Please enjoy. Let me know if I'm missing tags I never write or post pwp??? I just love these two and fell ass-first into seventeen and somehow this happened.
> 
> No beta, we die like clowns. I hope you enjoy this!

Jeonghan grimaces as he narrowly avoids a slosh of electric-blue cocktail, hopping out of the way so it won’t stain his shoes as he shoulders his way through the dense crowd. Saturday night on this block in Itaewon is always kind of a nightmare, but Jeonghan is on a mission. He’s not paying for his own drinks. He’s not letting anyone stop him from hunting down a pretty boy and hooking up. And it’s going to be a damn good night, as soon as drunk people stop running into him and trying to get his attention.

“Agh,” he complains, shoving a sweaty arm off of his shoulder. _You don’t know me like that,_ he wants to spit at this man who must be twice his size, but the music is too loud, and it’s not worth it.

He doesn’t do this often. His friends say that he’s boring, that they can’t remember the last time he joined them on a night out, but it isn’t that he doesn’t like to have fun, or that he can’t appreciate a warm body, a pretty smile, the touch of someone’s skin with heavy bass thumping under it all. There are just— reasons. But they don’t matter tonight.

He makes it up to the bar eventually, leaning over the first empty section he finds and craning his neck to scope out the crowd.

His glances are full of cursory interest, passing over person after person after person until—

 _Oh_ , Jeonghan thinks, mouth curling into a grin, _hello_.

The man, who is currently talking animatedly to the bartender, has a sweet smile. Big eyes, dark, swoopy hair, and a hand in the pocket of his surprisingly tight jeans. When he throws his head back in laughter, Jeonghan’s stomach does a little flip. Embarrassing.

He makes his way over, tucking himself sideways in between this man and the person next to him, a woman with a razor-cut bob who seems to have been trying to get his attention. Jeonghan smiles to himself, just a little, as he blocks her out.

“Hi,” he says.

The man turns to him, eyebrows raised, and his surprised expression quickly melts into warmth. “Hi,” he replies. He’s silent for a moment before startling, like he’s remembering something, and then asks, “Do you come here often?”

Jeonghan fights the urge to roll his eyes and smiles instead, letting it tip into flirtatiousness. “No, but I’m glad I did today.” He inclines his head a little, looking up through his eyelashes as best he can. “I’m Yoon Jeonghan.”

Privately, Jeonghan thinks that he'd never be oblivious enough to try for a one night stand with someone who has such an open book of a face, who looks like he'd build Jeonghan a literal house with those arms and that sweet goddamn smile, but that's not the point tonight. The guy—Seungcheol, he'd shyly introduced himself as—is offering to buy him a drink. And what's Jeonghan going to do? Say no?

 _Seungcheol._ It fits, he thinks. There’s a spot for it in his chest so perfect he could swear it was already there.

The drink slides over on the bar, glass already starting to sweat, and Jeonghan takes a demure sip before smiling roguishly and asking Seungcheol to tell him about himself.

They take a moment to sort ages, shouting a bit and laughing at themselves over the loud crowd, and Jeonghan finds out that Seungcheol is an EMT who saves lives on the daily in a tight little uniform. He probably bats those long eyelashes and smiles all comfortingly at people while they’re upset. Ugh. Jeonghan tells him about his work styling models for magazine shoots, and Seungcheol makes the appropriate noises of interest. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Jeonghan chides through an ungainly giggle at one point. “We just met!”

Seungcheol pouts. “Like what?”

“You know what.”

Seungcheol laughs and puts his hands up, faux-surrender. He’s criminally adorable. Jeonghan wants to ravish him.

After a few more minutes, Jeonghan begins to feel irritated at the level of effort it takes to yell over the music and general commotion. This is one of the reasons he doesn’t go out as much. It’s so much easier to have a nice night at home. Like he’s read Jeonghan’s mind, Seuncheol’s countenance brightens into hopefulness, and he asks, “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

“No,” says Jeonghan, just to see what he’ll do.

Seungcheol is nodding like Jeonghan agreed before his brain catches up, and then his face falls. His eyes go even rounder than they were before, and a small flash of hurt colors his expression. “No?” 

Jeonghan smiles angelically. “What if I want you to convince me more?”

If he knows Seungcheol at all, he’ll rise beautifully to that challenge.

And rise he does. Seungcheol’s emotions flit across his face like pages of a book, and Jeonghan takes great pleasure in reading each one. It starts with shock, then determination, on to plotting, doubt, and then back to determination again. His shoulders literally square like he’s getting ready to charge into battle. _Cute_ , thinks Jeonghan.

Seungcheol isn’t quite as cute when he crowds into Jeonghan’s space, spinning him so Seungcheol is pressing the middle of his back against the bar, and kisses him breathless, but that’s all right. This works too.

Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol is thorough, deliberate. His lips are warm. He takes it slow. One of his hands comes up to cradle Jeonghan’s jaw just the way he likes, and Jeonghan lets himself get a little lost in it.

“God, sweetheart,” he murmurs into the space between kisses, “your fucking mouth.”

“Come home with me,” Seungcheol whispers back to him, right into his ear. His breath makes Jeonghan shudder a little, knees wobbling before he rights himself. His hands are clutching Seungcheol’s shoulders, their bodies pressed tight up against one another.

Jeonghan ducks his head and smiles before turning to down the rest of his drink in a long swallow. He feels his throat work, feels Seungcheol’s eyes on him. “Okay,” he says.

When Seungcheol smiles back, the whole damn club seems to light up with it.

/

They stumble a little in the elevator to the apartment. Jeonghan had turned the frames around, made sure to hide evidence at least for the run up to the bedroom, but even almost sober he’s forgotten—maybe drunk just from the club, the game, the boy who keeps pulling him close—which of them is supposed to be the one who lives in this place. “It’s nice,” he ventures, watching the city splay out behind them through the glass of the elevator. “Right? This is where you live?” 

Seungcheol bursts out laughing. “Uh huh,” he says, obviously humoring Jeonghan.

“Hey,” Jeonghan whines, “you promised you’d take this seriously.”

“I’m taking it seriously,” Seungcheol insists. He’s still laughing. He presses a kiss to Jeonghan’s hair, and the hand at his hip tightens a little. They exit the elevator, walking down the narrow hallway, and Seungcheol punches in the code for the third door on the left. “This is my place,” he says, and his smile is a little cheeky when he asks, “What do you think?”

Jeonghan looks around, trying to see it with fresh eyes. It’s tidy, small but practical, and the view is breathtaking. The view is why they pay so much for a shoebox, and Jeonghan will never get tired of gazing at it. Of gazing at Seungcheol gazing at it. The stars reflect in Seungcheol’s eyes what was already there, and Jeonghan can’t help but step closer to him, tuck into his side.

“Pretty,” he says, right to Seungcheol’s face.

He has the gall to look bashful. Jeonghan wants to snort at him, shove him a little, but tonight they’re strangers, so he just presses a little kiss to the hinge of Seungcheol’s jaw and grins as the flush creeps up his neck.

He walks two fingers slowly up the center of Seungcheol’s chest, feels his heart beating under the thin t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. “You wanna show me the bedroom now, Seungcheol-ssi?” 

Seungcheol pouts. “Surely you can just call me by my name.”

“Seungcheol-ah,” Jeonghan says, smiling around the shape of it. “Seungcheol.”

He’s rewarded with a soft gaze, almost too gentle for what they’re here for, and fingers looping around his own. “Bedroom,” he agrees, and he takes Jeonghan there.

Jeonghan almost laughs at the coat tossed on top of the dresser, the dainty jewelry at the vanity, but he’s not laughing when Seungcheol guides him to the bed and gently lies the two of them down on their sides facing each other.

Their noses are so close they nearly brush. “Hi, beautiful,” Seungcheol says.

 _Yuck_ , Jeonghan would normally reply. But the point of tonight is that it’s different. Something about Seungcheol’s earnest voice, those sweet fucking eyes… Jeonghan lets himself melt into it, just a little. “Hi,” he answers, breathier than he’d meant to. If his ears have gone a little pink, then that’s his own business.

Or it is until one of Seungcheol’s hands reaches up to trace around the shell. His touch is delicate, cool against Jeonghan’s rapidly heating skin.

“Hi.”

“You said that already,” Jeonghan chides. His own hands are already greedily hiking up Seungcheol’s shirt, revealing warm skin that trembles under his fingertips.

“Your hands are cold,” Seungcheol whines.

Jeonghan just shushes him, continuing his exploration. As expected, Seungcheol backs down pretty quickly, letting Jeonghan touch his fill.

“Like your body,” Jeonghan murmurs, mostly to himself. He’s exactly Jeonghan’s type, solid without being intimidating, sweet little smile to balance out the way he obviously puts the work in to look like this.

“Th-thanks,” stutters Seungcheol.

Funny, the way he almost sounds nervous. Like it really is the first time they’re colliding like this.

“You must work out a lot,” continues Jeonghan, groping his arms now, and Seungcheol can’t hide his face behind his hands when he chokes out an awkward laugh.

“I—” starts Jeonghan again, perfectly happy to continue making Seungcheol squirm, but he’s cut off by a rough kiss. It startles a little noise out of him, and he feels Seungcheol smirk against his lips.

They kiss like that for a bit, passion giving way for lazy, molten heat, and eventually Jeonghan pulls back to catch his breath. “Okay, hotshot.”

Seungcheol laughs, tipping forward until his face is pressed against Jeonghan’s shoulder.

And then he bites him.

“Ah!” complains Jeonghan, shoving at him. “Oh my god, you big baby. Is this what you do when you get someone into bed? You just sink your teeth into them like this? Unbelievable.”

“Sorry,” says Seungcheol, not looking very sorry at all. He’s still grinning, actually, lips a deep kiss-bitten red. Okay, so maybe Seungcheol wasn’t the only one using teeth. “I only bite the ones I really like,” he promises, face the picture of innocence.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Penalty,” he declares. “Shirt off. Pants, too.”

“Oh no,” Seungcheol replies sarcastically. “What a horrible penalty.”

“I should keep mine on,” Jeonghan muses. “Make you get off against my jeans. Cover that mouth of yours until you learn how to use it nicely.”

Seungcheol’s eyes have gone a little wide, flustered. It’s endearing. Jeonghan wasn’t planning on being mean to him tonight, but he makes it so easy.

Seungcheol takes his shirt off, then his pants. Preens a little when Jeonghan looks at him approvingly, and then comes back in for a kiss, needier this time. It’s slower, wetter, deep like something has shifted. Something has, a little, but Jeonghan isn’t mad about it, and he’s happy to take this to its natural conclusion however that looks.

Whenever Jeonghan pushes, Seungcheol yields, and it makes Jeonghan forget to be annoyed with him. It makes it easy to fall back into the romance of the idea. It’s their first meeting, first night together, and they can’t keep their hands off of each other. They saw each other in a club and something just sparked. And Jeonghan didn’t have to worry about Seungcheol being wary of his reputation for being abrasive and mean, and there were no preconceived notions, and they could just fall together like it was fated. Like they were meant to.

There was no ugly push and pull, talking past each other for hours on end. No near misses, no late-night fights, no years of work to finally create something beautiful and giving and sweet. There’s nothing to rebuild because it was never broken in the first place.

It’s a pretty thought. It’s a pretty world to live in, just for a few hours.

Jeonghan lets Seungcheol pull off his shirt. Lets him tug off both of Jeonghan’s socks, and then lets him peel his jeans off slowly, until they’re both in their underwear. The air conditioning has been running, and for the first time Jeonghan feels a little cold, shiver running through his body.

Seungcheol is tender when he nudges Jeonghan onto his back and tucks a lock of his short hair out of his face. With their bodies pressed together like this, front to front, Jeonghan warms up again quickly, and he presses a kiss to Seungcheol’s chin in thanks, and then another high on his cheek.

Seungcheol is silent for a long moment, looking at Jeonghan with a little smile on his face.

“What?” Jeonghan asks.

“I just love you,” Seungcheol says.

Jeonghan sighs, hitting him on the chest without much force. “You tell that to all the strangers you meet at clubs?” he asks drily.

Seungcheol doesn’t stop looking at him like that, though, and he just calls, “Jeonghan-ah.”

“Mm?” 

“Are you having fun?”

Jeonghan squints up at him, trying to look intimidating, but he can’t help falling into giggles. “Yeah,” he admits. “I didn’t even think we’d make it this far.”

“Yah,” Seungcheol chides. “You didn’t believe in me?”

Jeonghan pretends to think about it, and covers his face when Seungcheol shakes him by the shoulders, demanding an answer.

“I knew you’d break,” Jeonghan finally gasps through his laughter. “I just thought it would be sooner! You did well.”

Seungcheol stops shaking him, and his smile grows as Jeonghan struggles to contain his laughter. It’s fun when it’s the two of them. It was fun when they were pretending to be strangers, but it’s more fun like this, Jeonghan thinks. When Seungcheol looks at him and sees everything, the good the bad and the ugly, and still smiles at him like Jeonghan is the only thing he needs to be happy. It’s heady. It’s unbelievable. Jeonghan is really embarrassingly in fucking love.

“What do you want?” Seungcheol asks, grazing a hand up Jeonghan’s thigh, and Jeonghan finally calms down enough to speak.

“You,” says Jeonghan. Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. “You riding me,” Jeonghan clarifies.

Seungcheol grins. “I can do that.” He sits back and rolls off of Jeonghan to kick off his boxers, and Jeonghan does the same. Seungcheol disappears for a second to grab the lube, and Jeonghan pouts when Seungcheol comes back with it in hand.

“Did you not want to use lube?” Seungcheol asks, looking baffled and a little nervous.

Jeonghan snorts at him. “No, I just remembered I had some in my jeans. I thought it would be sexy if you, like, felt me up on the dance floor and found in my pocket. Like I was really hot for it. Maybe we could’ve gone a round in the bathroom or something.”

“Jesus,” Seungcheol answers, and he sounds kind of impressed.

Jeonghan shrugs. “Too late now. You gonna let me open you up?”

“Yeah,” breathes Seungcheol. “How do you want me?”

Jeonghan takes his time arranging Seungcheol, watching the muscles in his back work as he turns around to get on his hands and knees, then down to his elbows, then back up to his hands. When Jeonghan has him where he wants him, he slaps Seungcheol’s ass once just for fun, cooing over the choked sound it pulls from Seungcheol’s throat. “Ready?” he asks.

Seungcheol nods so hard his hair flops into his eyes, and Jeonghan smiles watching him blow it away impatiently. 

“Relax, then,” Jeonghan tells him, rubbing little circles over the small of his back.

And Seungcheol does, listening well like always, taking slow deep breaths and leaning into the anticipation from a softer angle.

“Perfect,” Jeonghan murmurs, popping open the lube. It’s cool over his fingers, and he taps at Seungcheol’s back with his other hand in warning before starting to prep him. He takes his time—they’d planned this carefully, nothing to do tomorrow until well after noon, and even though the full plan has fallen apart a little it doesn’t stop Jeonghan from wanting to enjoy this. 

Seungcheol is as beautifully responsive as he always is, sighing and biting his lip around his moans as Jeonghan works. Around one finger, he’s all gentle movement. By the second, his eyes are screwed shut and he’s breathing heavily.

Jeonghan pets Seungcheol’s side comfortingly with his free hand and maintains a consistent stream of praise. _You’re doing so well_ and _My sweet Seungcheol_ and _Just like that, so good for me, always so good_. 

“Please,” Seungcheol says, the first word he’s gotten out since Jeonghan started fingering him. He sounds wrecked already, trembling all over. This must have been affecting him well before they got their clothes off, for him to be like this now. Jeonghan certainly isn’t complaining.

He smiles, cocking his head even though Seungcheol can’t really see him at this angle. “Please what?”

Seungcheol cranes his neck, trying anyway, and Jeonghan shifts to be better in his line of sight to reward him for the effort. “You know what,” he whines. “Jeonghan, please, I’m ready.”

“Seungcheolie wants to ride me?” answers Jeonghan, half-aegyo, just to fuck with him.

“ _Yes,_ ” groans Seungcheol, and Jeonghan decides he’s suffered enough. He’s feeling generous tonight.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, patting Seungcheol’s hip in apology when Seungcheol makes a tiny sound of discomfort, and then lies back on the bed, propped up just a little against the pillows and the headboard. He takes the opportunity to palm his dick, slicking himself up, and then he looks back at Seungcheol with a smile lazy across his face.

Seungcheol is on him in an instant, cupping Jeonghan’s face in his palms and kissing him like it’s been years, not minutes, since the last time. He’s a little rough, demanding. Jeonghan lets him take what he wants before tapping at his chest, just gently.

“Hm?” Seungcheol asks, pulling back only far enough that their foreheads are still pressed together.

“You gonna ride me or not, huh?”

“Yeah,” says Seungcheol, still looking a little blissed out, grinding against Jeonghan’s bare thigh. The length of him is hot and hard, and his movements are right at the edge of desperate. “Gonna— yeah, want to. I want to.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

Seungcheol nods, eyes shut, before pulling back properly. “Okay,” he says quietly, just to himself.

He’s so fucking cute, Jeonghan thinks. Hot and cute and perfect. The best man in the world. And everyone who’s not Jeonghan can just cry about it, because he’s not letting Seungcheol go for anything now that he’s gotten him.

Seungcheol lines himself up and then lowers himself slowly onto Jeonghan’s cock, biting a divot into his bottom lip, brows tight, eyes slitted and focused. “Fuck,” he says, hands braced against Jeonghan’s chest.

“You good?” Jeonghan checks. 

“Yeah, just—” he sinks the rest of the way down in one go, breath stuttering out of him, and then he starts to move.

Jeonghan’s hands immediately circle Seungcheol’s wrists, sliding up his forearms and holding onto him. God, it hasn’t been this intense with the two of them in a while. Sex is always good with Seungcheol, but this… Jeonghan digs his nails in, taking deep breaths, struggling not to come when they’ve barely started.

“How do you feel?” he asks Seungcheol.

Seungcheol laughs a little, almost disbelieving. “How do you think?” he asks. His cock sits heavy, untouched, where it strains toward his belly, and there’s sweat beading at his hairline. He shifts a little, hands almost slipping on Jeonghan’s chest, and when he rights himself and sinks back down again he moans, long and low. “Like this,” he says, eyes slipping shut again, “like this, just like this.”

Jeonghan moves his hands to Seungcheol’s hips, not to guide him but to hold him. Comfort, support, ownership—he tries to communicate a dozen different things with his touch, and Seungcheol seems to receive them all. It’s scary that it isn’t scary, being with someone like this. Jeonghan used to throw his body at people like it was the only thing he had to offer, and then Seungcheol caught him.

“Like this,” Jeonghan agrees. At this new angle, their faces are closer together. Not quite close enough to kiss, but more than close enough to admire Seungcheol’s pretty eyelashes, his reddened lips, the slope of his nose and how it scrunches when he gets overwhelmed. He looks almost destroyed. Jeonghan squeezes his left hip, grabbing his attention around the sensation of it all, the sound of skin on skin. “You want me to touch you?”

“Yes, please,” says Seungcheol.

Jeonghan coos at him. “Polite boy.”

He wraps a hand around Seungcheol and starts to stroke him off, drinking in the sounds it keeps tugging out of him. “I’m close,” Seungcheol says, plaintive, almost a whine. “I’m gonna come.”

“That’s okay,” Jeonghan answers. He raises his free hand to brush Seungcheol’s hair back, watches it flop back over his forehead with a terrible pang of fondness. “That’s good, I want you to.”

Seungcheol nods, nods again. Keeps working his hips, back onto Jeonghan’s cock and up into Jeonghan’s hand, surrounded, overwhelmed. It’s all over his face. He’s fucking perfect.

And then, between one breath and the next, he’s coming with a breathy moan, hips stuttering, eyes screwed so tightly shut a tear slips out. “Jeonghan,” he’s chanting, “Jeonghan, Jeonghan.”

“I’m here,” Jeonghan says. He keeps touching Seungcheol until Seungcheol full and truly whines, batting his hand away and collapsing forward with Jeonghan still inside of him.

“I’m good,” Seungcheol says. He leans into it when Jeonghan starts petting his hair. “Give me thirty seconds.”

Jeonghan laughs. “I can finish myself off,” he says. 

“Noooo,” complains Seungcheol. He huffs a breath and lifts himself back up, pouting. “I’ve got you.” 

He starts riding Jeonghan again, determined, and Jeonghan has never really known how to say no to him. Not for real. It’s not going to be long anyway—he’s been so hard it almost hurts ever since he got inside of Seungcheol, and Seungcheol knows him. Knows to go fast, make it loud, make noise in his oversensitivity. Knows to keep a hand on Jeonghan’s face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone, so Jeonghan remembers that he’s loved. Knows that on the inside, Jeonghan is just as soft as he is, and hasn’t that been the whole point of tonight?

Jeonghan saying, _I want this_ , and knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Seungcheol will give it to him?

When he comes, it’s with a declaration of love on his lips, threatening to spill out. Jeonghan shudders, then lets it. “I love you,” he says, “Seungcheol, love you.”

“I love you,” Seungcheol answers, solid as a rock, and Jeonghan believes him.

/

Things get a little hazy after that. They clean each other up with the wipes they keep in the nightstand drawer for this exact purpose, giggling a little at the cold feeling, at the adrenaline of having tried something new and seen the ways it _worked_.

“You were so hot,” Seungcheol says, “coming up to me, hitting on me.”

“Yeah?” Jeonghan replies teasingly. “You liked being pursued?”

“By you,” Seungcheol answers. “You liked it, really? Sorry I couldn’t keep it together.”

Jeonghan discards the last wipe, lobbing into the trash can for a perfect shot. He cheers himself on with a little yell, and Seungcheol laughs, cheering with him.

“I really liked it,” Jeonghan says. “It was perfect. Best sex ever. We’re amazing.”

He reaches up for a high five, which Seungcheol eagerly returns, just another sign of the ways being married for a year has turned Jeonghan practically into someone new. Someone better, he thinks, than he was before, looser and happier and less afraid of his heart sneaking its way onto his sleeve. His friends say he’s gotten boring, but they don’t understand that Jeonghan is so fucking happy to be a boring person. To come home to his husband. To cuddle with him after sex and not feel like he’s going to shake out of his skin.

Seungcheol runs hot, which is great, because Jeonghan runs cold and loves shoving his chilly toes between Seungcheol’s calves when they’re close like this.

Seungcheol pretends to complain, but he wraps an arm around Jeonghan to keep him from moving away, and the two of them drift off like that, entwined, sated, gentle as anything.

/

Half an hour later, Jeonghan stretches as he sits up, luxuriating in the soreness in his muscles. It’s a good kind of sore, satisfying and familiar in that way. His phone keeps lighting up on the nightstand, though he’d turned the vibrations off, and he picks it up to see who’s bothering him.

It’s Seungkwan, naturally.

_Hyung, are you two done with your freaky roleplay yet?_

Shit, Jeonghan had forgotten that he’d said they might be able to go back out tonight for drinks. He turns to his left and sees Seungcheol dozing, eyes blearily squinting awake. “Everything okay?” he mumbles, eyebrows turning in with concern even when he’s still most of the way asleep.

Jeonghan’s heart feels far too big for his chest.

 _No_ , he sends back. _We won’t be for hours_.

Seungkwan immediately sends back the most horrified yelling he can get across in his responses, wailing about TMI, but Jeonghan just chuckles and flips the phone over so he can’t see the light anymore.

“Everything’s fine,” he assures Seungcheol, curling back towards him. Face to face like this, Seungcheol has a way of making Jeonghan feel small. Jeonghan leans up, kisses his brow until it unfurls. “Thank you,” he eventually adds in a whisper. It’s inadequate, comes nowhere close to describing the way Jeonghan is feeling, but he knows Seungcheol will get what he means. _Thank you_ , he thinks again, but adds _, I love you, I love you, I’d marry you all over again if I could._

Seungcheol brings an arm around Jeonghan’s waist to tug him even closer. “Of course,” he says, like it’s easy. “Anything.”

Jeonghan believes him when he says that. The scariest part about it is that Jeonghan isn’t scared at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/poppyseedfic) if you want, I love friends!


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